


In which robin is not a happy child

by Dingoman



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Abuse, Amnesia, And the things that come with that, Attempted Murder, Attempted murder of a baby, Child Abuse, Identity Issues, Memory Loss, Religion, Think thats accurate at least, Violence, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2018-12-07 14:40:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11625687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dingoman/pseuds/Dingoman
Summary: There is a baby that no one who is left to remember bothers to remember except for one old soldier who dwells on the guilt of his past.There is a man with no memory who looks at the sky and sees it for the first time all over again and thinks that it is beautiful.There is a grave for someone long dead that nobody remembers and robin thinks that he should have a grave too for whoever he was in the past.





	1. Chapter 1

The night is filled with the screeches of a baby. Six months old, wrapped in plegian garb and held roughly under the armpit of a soldier who is meant to be a paragon of the law. The baby cries each time it is jostled by the rough movement, blanket long lost exposing it to the cold. The man stops at his destination, hands the baby over to a woman who looks at it for a good long while, as if inspecting it for something only she knew.  
The baby gives a little sniffle, one hand reaching for her face as she leans away in disgust. She gives the baby one last look, then shoves it Into a barrel of water and holds it under.  
The little alley is so empty and inconspicuous for such a thing, and the soldier stands by as the baby tries to scream, though he grows more jittery as the time goes until the soldier yells "enough!"  
And when the woman refuses, he shoves her to the ground and grabs the baby out of the water, tiny and wailing and shivering. It is sure to get sick from this.  
"We cannot do this," he says when the woman protests. "Naga would never allow us."  
And the woman resigns herself to agree if only to be free to do so again.  
Then the soldier pauses. "But we must not let the felldragons followers roam free," he says as he hugs the baby close. He brushes the soft white hair of the baby back (He calls it a curse from Naga; a sign that the baby is wrong.)  
"Little one," he whispers, as if he holds something secret. "You will be absolved of your sins, I promise you that."  
And then, "forgive me."  
And they pass the baby off to another, who gives them a sack of gold in exchange. They tell themselves it is for the greater good.


	2. Chapter 2

He wakes up in a field and there is a static buzzing emptiness in his head. The first thing that fills it is the face of a stranger and the second thing the sky. The first stranger is blue and inviting and calm, the second like sunshine; lively and  young. The last stranger is large, threatening, dangerous and snappy. Robin cowers away from him the first time he comes near but he can't remember why. He doesn't trust Frederick and Frederick doesn't trust him.  
He learns that the country he is in is Ylisse. That this is where Chrom and Frederick and Lissa are from. That this is their home and he wears the cloak of their enemies. Though it feels familiar he doesn't know where it came from. If he is from this place they call Plegia or if he got it from someone who was.  
He learns that he knows how to fight. That he can do magic, and use a sword, and he's the best tactician this side of Ylisse that Chrom can seem to find, if his offer to let an amnesiac man he met five hours ago lead his army is any way to go on.  
He sees a corpse for the first time in his life, but it still feels familiar though he can't remember why. He sees a town burn and a child killed because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time and the people who burned the town don't care about killing a child.  
Robin wonders if he is supposed to say something; if the child has anyone to bury them, and if he should be there when they do. In the end he does not stay, because they have to keep moving, leave the village in disarray but without murderers and fires running loose. Robin wants to stay, not for the food or the bed like lissa but because he feels a need to be there for the people that he failed to save. Because he took a life and maybe is this how he atones. In the end there is no time and so they leave.  
He thinks the others must be used to this.  
They camp in a forest in the middle of the night, no tents but an open sky and a fire he leans close enough to to be scorched by sparks if he's not lucky enough. He thinks of the first fire he's seen in his tiny tiny memory, and that it is a shame it will always be the first fire.  
He doesn't remember the last time he ate or drank anything but he is ravenous, devouring food far past the point his stomach feels full. Lissa makes a joke about manners, and he makes a joke about how he must have forgotten them, but it feels like she is worried about him. He wonders if she should be. 

 

They fight undead things that don't breathe or speak or think. Robin wonders if they might have been people once, and the thought of that crushes a little bit of him. In a way that would make them like him, because they must have had a family if they were once human and now they can't remember.  
They are soulless and have no will to do anything but kill. They fight with the intent to rip and tear and maul even with three lances sticking through their torso until they are killed enough to evaporate into dust. Robin gets it in his hair and is greatly displeased.  
One of them sticks a sword through his arm and he forgets to remove it after the fight. Frederick watches him with scared eyes as he walks up to Lissa, sword still stabbing through one side and coming out the other, and he sees the terrified expression on her face, and then the look on Chrom's when he hears about it. He blacks out for a couple of seconds during the "ripping the sword out and healing it up" process. He's surprised he didn't notice it more.  
He would have expected Lissa to look less scared, but instead she looks worse, and he finds out it is because he has multiple untreated wounds he never knew about.  
And he realizes that that was what he was feeling the first time he can remember anything.  
"Robin," she asks him, voice so fragile he thinks she might break. "Robin, do you remember how you got these?"  
And he tells her "no," because he doesn't.  
Lissa nods like it makes sense, even though it doesn't.  
"Can I talk to Chrom about these?" She asks him and he nods, but he wants to hear too, he says. Talk to chrom in here. And so she brings Chrom in and then she breathes and breathes and breathes before she tells them that she thinks they were on purpose by another person, not war wounds, she says, because she thinks some of them are from whips.  
She has to do a physical examination and Robin says that Chrom can stay, he can stay because he's the first thing he remembers and he doesn't want him to go just yet.  
"You were branded," she whispers, voice taut with horror. "They branded you."  
Robin looks at them with wide eyes, says "I don't remember" and he thinks maybe it breaks them a little.  
There are burns and a broken leg that never set right (that's why he has a limp, he almost says then thinks better of it.) He has whip scars and half healed wounds, feet so scarred there's no normal tissue left, marks from a knife, and wrists that have been chained so long they're malformed. His body is tiny and emaciated from never getting enough food and it leaves him at least three feet shorter than chrom. He would have been taller, she tells him.  
He doesn't remember any of it.  
"Don't tell Frederick," he says at one point, and then adds, "not yet."  
When asked why he tells them "Tactics. I'm practicing tactics."  
He wants to see if Frederick can trust him, if he does not know about the weak injured branded like a cattle type of person he is. If Frederick can trust a person who he might think a threat.  
"You are Plegian," he says once on the road. "You could be a spy."  
Maybe he is testing Frederick, but it is only fair.


	3. Chapter 3

When he enters Ylisse Robin is struck with a sense of amazement. There is tall buildings, stained glass that shines all different colors on his hand, a giant castle in the distance that climbs and swirls and catches his breath. And in the stone streets he sees a woman posed almost etherally, clothes swirling around her, and a looping crown on her forehead  caught in wisps of hair. And she smiles so widely at everyone, in a way that calms him faster than anything he's experienced in the few days he's able to remember. Her smile is what he remembers the most. More than her beauty, it is her smile that makes her something special.   
And when he turns to Chrom and asks "Who is she?" Chrom smiles and laughs lightly like he's sharing a joke. "That's the exalt," Chrom tells him. "She's Ylisse's ruler."   
"Is she safe here?" He asks, though he can't imagine why someone would want to harm her.   
And Chrom shrugs and smiles like it isn't a big deal, then tells him "She is a symbol of peace," and Robin nods like it makes sense. 

"Besides, you're never going to be able to stop my sister from coming out here." 

"Sister?" 

"Please tell me you remember what a sister is," Chrom says jokingly. 

"I-of course I know-wait wouldn't that make you royalty?" And Robin feels surprised, though Frederick makes more sense now. He wonders as to why the royal family wanders haphazardly across the country without a care in the world. Why their leader comes to the city with little protection just so they can feel at peace. 

"Yeah," Chrom answers him. "It kinda does."

They take him to meet Emmeryn. He has never been in a castle before at least not that he can remember, and it is massive and beautiful, covered in carvings and elaborately decorated and just grand. He loves it. There's so much of it he can't possibly explore it all in one lifetime even if he had the chance to. There are long hallways, lamp lights and windows dazzling all around him, and a massive room with a huge chair-throne perhaps? 

He sees Emmeryn after a couple of seconds entranced by the ceiling, drawn back in by Chrom's voice and realizing he's trailed behind. He meets the eye of a blue haired woman donned in armor and shrivels away from her steely deadly Frederick like gaze, inching closer to Chrom and Lissa. He's not paying attention until he hears his name and perks up as he turns his eyes towards Emmeryn and Chrom and Lissa wondering what they've been talking about and somewhat ashamed that he hasn't been listening. 

"Hello," Emmeryn says, voice like honey, before Frederick butts in interrupting them all. 

"Milady you at least have the common sense not to trust this man," he says and Robin can feel himself wither away a little at Fredericks words. 

"Nonsense Frederick," she says and Robin swears that the man would have his mouth wide open if he weren't so uptight. 

"You trust him right Chrom?" And Chrom looks at him as he confirms with the dumbest smile Robin has seen. 

"Well then, I see no reason why he can't be the shepherd's tactician." 

Emmeryn cuts Frederick off when he tries to protest, and then Lissa has him by the shoulders, excitement glittering in her eyes as she is practically bouncing. 

"Come on Robin! You've gotta come down to the barracks and meet everyone!" 

"I'll meet up with you two later," Chrom shouts at them as Lissa grabs his hand and practically drags him with her on a barreling line towards what she'd called the barracks.   
Robin has no choice but to keep up with her. 

They burst through in a whirlwind of Lissa fueled energy where several people are gathered talking  (or perhaps on second thought, arguing?) One of them has a booming voice that is cut off mid sentence by the surprise entrance of Robin and Lissa. He has an axe in his hands for some reason, still and he's practically nude which has Robin averting his gaze in an instant. 

He feels like they're all staring at him, maybe staring at his cloak that screams his heritage to everyone he meets. 

"Lissa!" Someone bursts out, and Lissa runs over to meet the other girls embrace and doting, leaving Robin on his own. 

"Maribelle I'm fine," Lissa says at the same time that someone else pipes up with "Who's the stranger?" 

"Oh yeah!" Lissa turns around, and gestures to him. "This is Robin, our new tactician! We found him in a field." 

There's a murmer of voices that rise up, and Lissa has probably given him the worst introduction ever-but still, they don't seem to be threatening, even though he's aware of how keenly he watches for such signs. 

"Uhm, hello?" He says meekly, watches them all the same. 

And then there's a burst of introductions and laughter, and joking. The half nude man-Vaike he learns-swings an arm around his shoulders in some form of well meant rough housing or greeting. He's not quite sure. He laughs at Vaike's stupidity despite himself and then catches "Barbaric-" from Maribelle's voice. Has him stinging and riling inside. 

He doesn't catch much of what she says but what he does catch is enough for him to realize he doesn't like her very much. She is too proper and stuck up and aggressivily opinionated to be trustworthy. He has a feeling she doesn't approve of him, and that that will only lead somewhere bad if he lets his guard down. He can surely outwit her without breaking a sweat though. 

Vaike isn't nearly as bad as her. Somewhat absent minded and aloof and self obsessed but he seems like a decent man despite it all. Mentally he sorts out who he can and can't trust-Miriel is only interested in his ability to use magic-doesn't care about anything else other than a potential mage to practice with or whatever it is she was interested in.  Most of them seem decent enough people, though he reserves his judgement for a later date. 

Sully is loud, foul mouthed and boisterous, red like a cardinal, too rough but he likes her even so. She is a contrast to maribelle who is proper and uptight, a stiff board that imitates life until it comes to lissa. Sully plays too rough but she is nice where maribelle is not, and for that he puts her in his mental list of good people. She's asked him to spar with her, and though he's declined he thinks maybe one day he might. 

He meets Sumia who is nervous and clumsy but also seems kind, and when Chrom comes back he feels an instant sense of relief-Chrom is, he realizes, his first memory. Maybe that is why.   
The shepherd's are loud and rough and seem very close to eachother, and maybe it's not what he's used to-maybe it's not what he'd ever expected-but it feels warm and good and almost normal here. There is something of it that is just right. So he stays.


	4. Chapter 4

The air is cold, glass frosted over and a chill in the air that has him bundled up in extra coats before the rest of them. (Vaike is somehow, inexplicably still half nude despite the cold. Whether it is by magic or Vaike being too stubborn to admit defeat, he doesn't know.)  
He's gleaned enough about Regna Ferox from what he's been told and what he's heard people muttering about to know it will only get colder, which, with his handful of life experiences, is somewhat impossible to imagine. _Colder_ is a sort of an intangible idea; it is already too cold and he doesn't want to know how much worse it could get, but he has a feeling he's going to find out regardless. 

His bones ache from the cold even with four layers of clothes piled on, and it's bad enough without Frederick watching him like a hawk. (Which is at least made a little better by Maribelle not being around. He really can't stand her, and at this point he feels liable to snap at her. He can only really take one of them at a time.) His leg drags, and he really doesn't want to take another step but Naga, he's too stubborn to give in, and he's not going to admit defeat in front of _Frederick_ of all people. 

He eyes Chrom in the hopes of getting Frederick off his back, though the prospect of going so far ahead is unpleasant at best. The man is talking to someone else-his brain racks through the few people he's met to supply a name to the face when he gets closer; Sully. Brash and loud as she spits out a dirty joke that has Chrom laughing, puffs of breath visible in the air startling Robin, and alerting them to his presence. 

"Robin!" Chrom says, at the same that that Sully wraps an arm around his shoulder and affectionately calls him a little bastard. (Somewhere he wonders if she is drunk, or if that is simply how Sully always is.) 

"How long have you been there?" Chrom asks him, all warming smiles and welcoming tone. (Frederick eyes him suspiciously and Robin glares at him, forgetting all about what Chrom asked him.) 

"I didn't even notice ya," Sully mumbles. "You're gonna scare one of us half to death one of these days if ya keep sneaking up like that." 

"I've, uh-just got bored back there, you know." He laughs a little awkwardly, rubbing at his wrists. "Fredericks not really much of a conversationalist." 

Chrom nods his head at that, in silent agreement, then joins Sully in slightly too forceful reassuring backslaps, though all they really seem to do is nearly knock him over. He doesnt half mind really. It's nice being dragged into the roughhousing that the shepherds incorporate into their social lives. Even if it seems contradictory to something that he'd like; It's nice being included. He doesn't have any memories of friends to rely on, and it feels like that has left him socially inept. Small talk can fall flat very quickly around him, when he doesn't know what country they're talking about, and can't tell stories past two weeks back. 

So he grins and shoves Chrom back and then nearly falls over when Chrom grabs onto him trying to keep upright. (He succeeds actually, but only barely, and Robin gets the most pitiful look he's seen in his life sent at him.) Robin snorts, and Chrom starts to laugh until Frederick sends both a steely glare and they quiet down, unwilling to poke at the sleeping ten ton mass of bear that is Frederick. He laughs genuinely loud and hard when Sully shoulders Chrom headfirst into a pile of snow and offers up his hand before any others, and when Chrom takes it and smiles at him he feels warm inside. 

 

 

They make their camp at the first sight of snow. Not intentionally, but they've been walking a long enough time by the time it starts snowing that they do. It's not what he'd expected, though it reminds him a little of frost and it's cold as a bastard outside. There's some part in him that doesn't know if he's ever even seen snow before his memory loss; he knows _what_ it is, but-well it's not worth pondering over much. He doesn't know if it snows in Ylisse, or Plegia and something about that that he can't quite place feels wrong. 

The camp itself is loud and bright and he wonders if starting a fire would be easier with magic, and has the sudden urge to try it. Later though; he has business to attend to. Snow sticks on the pulled up tents that make their sleeping quarters (a far cry from day one in the open field) and on the trees and the ground and some of the outter furs he wears, but melts in the fire and the warmth of his skin. It's really a great mess, and trudging through increasingly deeper snow and the mass of people and belongings to find Lissa is harder than it should be. 

Some part of him tells himself he should just wait until later since they've just settled down, and she's got to be tired, and then admonishes that part of himself. He doesn't need to be hindered in a fight, by aching limbs and joints. There's always the chance it could turn into a battlefield and if he's weak that means risking the lives of the shepherd's and that means not doing his job right. 

No, he's got to find Lissa. He can't afford to do his job wrong with the lives of real people in his hands. Lissa, then a meeting with Chrom and Frederick after dinner, then probably research on Ferox' and a few hours of sleep if he's lucky. (Can't afford to miss sleep and mess up, can't afford to miss vital information and make half baked plans.) 

He finds Lissa by a fire, after an astonishingly long time for the size of their camp and their people. She's donning thick stockings under her dress, and a thick coat on top of it, though she looks frozen still. He can't imagine she is any less cold than he is, if not colder. 

"Hello," she addresses him as he sits down beside her. "I haven't seen you much today." 

It's true; this is the first time they've talked since they left Ylisse and he hadn't seen her the entire walk up. 

"Sorry," he finally tells her. "But-uhm-i was wondering-" he cuts off, curses himself for his lack of politeness and can't quite pick back up. 

"It's okay!" Lissa's hands are raised up in a gesture he's come to associate with 'you haven't done anything wrong'. It's certainly been said enough times. 

"It's just that my wrists-uhm-it hurts?" He wants to slap himself for that. He knows he's better than this. 

Her mouth forms a surprised oh before her eyes light up and she hums a noise of agreement as she nods. 

"That actually makes a lot of sense. Don't know why I hadn't thought about that before we came up. I should have, I'm sorry rob-" 

"Don't be." 

"Okay," she mumbles; distracted enough he's not sure she even registered his words. "What would you feel about trying out a heated cloth then? It probably won't do a lot but we could look for something better in Ferox." She tugs at one of her curls self consciously as she talks; he doubts she's fully aware of it. 

"Sounds like a fine plan to me." 

 

The thin makeshift wraps, clumsily heated, some almost burning and some half cold, are actually a very good idea, even if they don't work very well or enough. Any reprieve from the ache is a good outcome to him. How well he can work his wrists is yet to be seen. 

The heat saps away too fast and the discomfort comes back too soon, and he's left with it for the entire meeting, going over everything they can think of that is relevant. They don't have plans to engage with Ferox, but Ferox might have plans to engage with them, and it's Robin's job to plan for these contingencies, and improvise said plans on the fly. 

Chrom is easily impressed by Robin actually doing his job, and Frederick could care less about him, but he couldn't care more about the job of Tactician. It's a little bit smaller of a meeting, maybe because they're not counting on a fight, and they're all hoping that it doesn't come down to it. This is seemingly much more likely than Robin wants it to be. Inwardly he's fighting himself because they called them barbaric and maybe they're _wrong_ about Ferox, maybe Ferox isn't what Ylisse sees. Then again, maybe they are.


	5. Chapter 5

The first Ferox citizen they come across is a corpse. Frozen in knee deep snow alone, mauled apart by risen. He never stood a chance. Robin prays to Naga that the man didn't suffer, then stops and realizes he doesn't know if Ferox believes in Naga. He doesn't know if this man did. There's a chilling moment where he realizes he doesn't know if _he_ even believed in Naga before, and what if he didn't? What is he supposed to do then? 

 

 

It doesn't take them long to find the risen that killed the man. Ambling rotted dead leave a trail and they left a trail of dead. The Shepherds have the advantage, able to sneak up on the enemy before the enemy sneaks up on them and then there's a flurry of movement as people shoot into action. Robin grabs the sword he's had tied to his hip, as he dodges past a collapsing risen-head pulverized by Vaike's hammer-death gargle wheezing past his ears. 

He slides past an arrow meant for his head (if risen can aim that is) and ducks under the arc of a thick sword that would have cleaved his stomach open in a single smooth swing, stabbing his sword beneath the armpit of the risen, point sliding out through its back, then rolls out of the way of another swing, hissing when it aggravates his aching limbs. His sword is left stuck in the risen and he has to resort to an arching bolt of electricity that chars the risen into a second afterlife, leaving his sword behind, coated in black, ashy, risen goo. 

An armored horse rides by, on course to the risen farthest back, and Robin finds himself turned around long enough to receive a claw down the back. A quick dash of magic has it dead, and he's left retrieving his sword from the _other_ pile of dead risen and wondering why claw risen had decided that weapons were a no go. He takes a second to survey the battlefield and shout a few commands to nearby shepherds before jumping back into the fray, sword in hand; magic is too tiring and hard to handle today, even if the sword isn't that much better. 

Before he even knows it he's stabbed his last risen, and Sully decapitates the final one with one clean blow, giving the group a moment to breathe and settle down enough to assess their injuries. (Vaike and his stupid insistence that he not wear proper armor has left the short blonde man a bloody frozen mess that robin is not going to stand for anymore. He's going to speak with Chrom about requiring that all Shepherds wear proper gear from now on.) 

Chrom has a bad cut on his face from an arrow that got too close. It looks worse than it actually is but Robin doesn't let him skip the healers. Most of them are fine, except for Vaike. A few small injuries here and there he sends of to the healers anyways, but none of it too bad. Robin deems himself fine enough for the time being. (Albeit a little cold. He'd forgotten about tossing his coat off dramatically before battle. Might have been a few coats. Might have.) Really, it was just a scratch, that could wait. 

 

 

It was not, in fact, 'just a scratch.' More like a really deep cut that needed medical attention. He'd tried to convince them that it wasn't that serious and really he was fine, it didn't bother him, but then Lissa brought up infections and death and his still raw pink sword through the shoulder wound (now reopened on one side) and he shut up so she could do her job. He didn't feel quite so bad knowing that Vaike and a couple others had been treated first, but it really hadn't hurt that badly. He really thought it would have been fine waiting until she wasn't so busy. He had voiced this, and been harshly reminded that _she_ was the one who was the healer, and not him. Not something he could argue with. 

There are bandages looped around to keep unwanted things out of the wound, and then the discovery that he came seriously close to a sprain, rolling around and swinging a heavy sword through the air. He makes a promise he knows he's not going to keep about not fighting with a sword unless he have something supporting the weight on his wrists. It's not like it will prevent a sprain or a break, or anything really, but he's been assured that it will at least help. At least that it would be better than nothing at all, and a mention of his job that is surely meant to guilt him into compliance. 

He's not going to say it worked, but after a hard wrap of bandages around the offending limbs, and a promise that he will someday, he is able to leave and ensure that the other injured shepherds get treated. They've got some time to rest before they have to go on, and he has to make sure that everyone is fit for the journey ahead, or accommodated for travel. 

His first stops give him two healthy soldiers in the form of Stahl and Frederick and a newly treated Chrom. The former of the three sends him off with a bottle of something alcoholic that hardly smells any appetizing. (Stahl is, he finds, bearable. Nice even, if not a little bit much of a stranger for his worn out self that day.) Sully has to be promptly sent to the healers with every bit of stubbornness and intent not to go as a bull might have. He doesn't listen to her complaints that she ‘can damn well take care of it herself’ even if she feels about as deadly as a bull too. Not that he is in any immediate danger, but he pities any enemies that cross her way. 

Fortunately he doesn't have to stronghold any more stubborn self sacrificing shepherds into getting healed. They've either been brought there by someone else, or didn't have the self preservation of a rock and went on their own. Thankfully. It frees him up to rest for a couple of minutes, and ward off conversations from well meaning people with a few friendly nods, short words and apologetic smiles. (He does want to speak to Miriel at some point, with her being a mage and knowing magic. Just not now.) He fully intends to get supper, but he doesn't account for his exhaustion catching up and putting him to sleep.


	6. Chapter Six

He takes an arrow for Chrom. It's not like he planned it in the grand scheme of things, but the fight came too quickly and the arrow came too fast to think and-well he's face down in the snow with an arrow in his back. 

“Grima’s _balls-_ ” he whines, pulling his hand into a fist around the snow. 

His face hurts and his head hurts and his _gods-damned back hurts._

“Robin-” He hears, and it sounds like _Chrom,_ and then there’s the sounds of metal and feet kicking up snow. 

He turns on his side, just in time to see the enemy fall. Chrom swings his sword around, sheathing it and turning back to him. 

“Robin, stay still.” 

There's a hand on his side, and a hand on his chest and Chrom looks _terrified,_ but- 

“They need me.” He tries to sit up and Chrom holds him still, holds him steady-

“Robin no-” 

“I'm their tactician Chrom-” 

“ _Robin_!” 

Chrom let's him lean against him, but the hand against his shoulder holds him down. Firm and commanding as he glances around the battlefield. 

“They're okay, Robin,” He says, and it almost sounds wispy. “They're okay.” 

And then he waves one hand frantically, and he sees Lissa-Lissa what is she-but she's coming already and Chrom is intent on keeping him there, so he focuses his eye on any enemies. Stahl (yes-yes he got it right this time-) notices and covers her back. 

“Chrom what-” Lissa starts, and then crouches down in front of Robin with her staff. He can feel Chrom turn him a little so she can see his back. 

“ _Damn,_ ” Stahl says, and he can hear Lissa admonish the man. 

Her hand grabs his shoulder, and then there's a sharp pain and he blacks out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much shorter than I originally intended, but that's because the next bit is the next chapter. Would've been here but it isn't.   
> This is that one battle, at the Feroxi gates but plunged into the middle of the fight. Which means they have officially reached Regna Ferox. 
> 
>  
> 
> -The original curse was "Grima's holy ballsack" but that didn't fit here. Might hear it later who knows. 
> 
> -I had a strong strong urge to have Stahl say "That's gnarly dude." Like pure instinct. He sounds like a fucking stereotypcial surfer dude in my head and that's all I can think of when I think of Stahl. Which. Clearly doesn't work in this setting. 
> 
> -What I'm saying is if y'all got some modern aus clearly this is the best Stahl for that. 
> 
> -i can never end endings with blacking out or going to sleep, properly. _Never._


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing Robin notices when he wakes is the warmth. The second is the bed he's laying on and the blankets he's buried under. The fire in the hearth. It takes him another moment to register the throbbing in his back, though it is nothing like before-

He stands up in a split second and promptly falls over, knocking over a chair in the process. Steps near the door, tensing as it opens, until it reveals Chrom. 

“Chrom?” He mumbles, as the man walks to his aid. 

“What in hell’s name were you doing?” Chrom asks him, though Robin doesn't answer.

He is helped back onto his bed, though he stays sitting. 

“Where are we?” 

“Regna Ferox!” Chrom says, delighted. “Uh-I mean-we’re guests of the Khan.”

“Last time I checked we were _fighting_ Ferox.” 

“Oh yeah. Well we won! And now we’re guests.” Chrom grins. 

“How in the hell does that work?” 

“Matters of urgent diplomacy,” Chrom says sincerely. “We won the fight and proved our identity. And now we are honored guests.” 

“That doesn't make sense-”

“You know I'm not good at explaining things,” Chrom says. “That's why I have you.” 

“Clearly you need me.” 

“I know!” Chrom exclaims, then stops mid motion. “Oh, and we’re supposed to fight for the leadership of the next Khan.” 

“ _What?_ ”


	8. Robin discovers alcohol

Flavia reminds him of Sully in many ways. Boisterous, crude, strong as an entire army and able to curse up a storm if she saw fit. In many ways she is different but it makes him more comfortable around her.  
Frederick stands stone still and silent beside Chrom, ignoring any attempts at loosening him up. He and Chrom and Flavia sit front and center, able to see each other and speak with ease, when the need to discuss business arises. Flavia feels like a warrior to him, but she also feels like an ally, and he can only hope she stays as such. He has a strong feeling he wouldn't live to see another day if he were on her bad side. 

On the other side there's Basilio. The more time he spends with them the more alike the two Khans seem to him. They don't appear to have bad blood between each other and Basilio, though a little rough, seems like a kind man. (He doesn’t fancy his chances against Basilio either, for that matter.) There's a feeling of power to them he can't compare to. But despite this all he feels no threat from Basilio or Flavia. (A fact that surprises him given his track record.) 

They fall into comradery easily, pushing alcohol their way, which he declines. Other shepherds like Sully are more proclined to accepting. (Lissa is steadily kept away from the alcohol, to her complete and utter dismay, and the rest of them drink so much Basilio goes off in search of a refill himself, instead of relying on the members of their kitchen.) 

“Damn right!” Sully shouts, spilling ale as she raises her mug in the air. “Some damned good stuff ya got ‘ere. Ya gotta be proud of this damn-damn excellency.” 

Flavia laughs, and raises her own mug. 

“To damn good ale.” 

“I like her,” Sully says, motioning towards Flavia. “Can we stay?” 

“You're welcome to do so,” Flavia says, and laughs in her booming voice. 

“Maybe you should ease off the ale-” Robin mumbles and then is cut off by Sully holding her extra mug under his nose. 

“No damn way Robs. Drink up an’ ya-ya-you’ll see.” she stumbles off track, and stares down into her mug like it holds all the secrets of the world. 

“You’ll see how damned great it's is!” Her voice rises. “C’mon Robs.” 

Chrom waves his own mug at him, a good natured smile on his face. Sully is practically chanting for him to drink it and-damn it all-Robin grabs the mug a little too viciously, stares it down and takes a huge gulp. A moment later he spits what's left out. 

“Grimas holy _ballsack_ it burns!” 

Flavia breaks out into full on boisterous laughter. 

“Can’t handle no damn Feroxi ale can ya?” 

Chrom stares at him wide eyed. It takes a second to click. 

“What’d I say?” 

Chrom looks like a gods damned fish. His mouth opens and closes. His eyes are so wide they're practically white. 

“Where the hell’d ya learn that?” Sully asks. 

“I don't-” Robin frowns. “I don't know.” 

“Holy ballsack,” Sully mumbles, and then snorts. “That's damned great.” 

“Thanks?” 

“No.” Sully says, and very carefully places her hands on top of his, staring right into his eyes. “Thank _you_.” 

“Been a long time since I heard that,” Flavia sighs. Her voice rumbles, like a thunderstorm; wild and deep and freeing. 

“Uh-” Chrom finally says, and then goes quiet again. 

(He chances a glance at Frederick. Fredericks glaring at him. Fredericks always glaring at him.) 

“Went for it so damn fast too-” Flavia falls into another bout of laughter. 

“What’ve you gotten yourself into this time?” Basilio says, announcing his reappearance. He almost sounds disappointed. 

“I haven't done a damn thing you old coot.”

“Yeah yeah.” He waves her off. “Like I haven't heard that one before.” 

“Oh, shove off.” 

Robin grins, even though he feels like he swallowed half the pint into his lungs, and his throat burns like he’s set it on fire from the inside. 

“Go easy on that,” Basilio tells him, grinning rather unhelpfully. “Unless you like it like that.” 

“I’d rather not unearth any more Plegian swear words,” Robin says. 

“ _I’d_ like it,” Sully whines. 

“And _I_ don't fancy being as drunk as you.” 

“You would if you were-were-well you would.” Sully slams her cup on the table to punctuate her words. “Ya would.” 

“It's good fer the bones,” Basilio rumbles. 

Robin doubts it. He finds himself grinning like an idiot anyways, any hint of a debate in him washed away by the effects of good company and what little alcohol he actually ingested. 

"Well-" he says, and nods his mug towards Basilio. "I could always use better bones." 

It still burns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basilio and Flavia are some of my favorite characters and I don't think I can ever do them justice. 
> 
> I'm pretty sure this is kind of a mess but i am too tired to care. 
> 
> I dropped the full curse way earlier than I expected but its all cool


End file.
